slight touch-up of an old excerpt from the thing about bleeps

only the most foolish
shut their eyes in the prayerful
hope that they could get at least a short
note that could explain what the devil

had gotten into this horrible
sound. However no one today
supposes that the big bleep
consciously selected this day

for this village
for it did not matter
what the day
was this bleep did nothing

but bleep and sometimes
no village burned. Sometimes
only forests creaked as one great
groan or as aridity

turning everglades
to parchment aged
centuries and alligators
searched frantically
for sewers.

While many went
into such though they had
no lands to flee to, because
no land had any more freedom

– rather some lands
had freedom but the same
fences in the heights
encompassed each yard

which were certainly private
but privacy wasn’t so highly
prized when the gigantic
bleep appeared in the sky,

darkened all
the sky, and this was such
a massive bleep
that all fields fell

under the flatness of the tool
that brushed everything
in plastic gray
shades and it was not even noon

and womenfolk were bringing repast
to the menfolk – nothing too fancy,
because they didn’t do the fancy here,
but hey they never needed fancies


About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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